Zoom
by Kazyre
Summary: It's been four years since the Battle of the Watchtower. Wally is trying to figure out how to juggle college life, his family, growing responsibilities with the League, & filling a pair of shoes he's not ready for. The only thing keeping the stress at bay is his relationship with Dick, but with much deadlier trouble on the way, even that isn't as easy as it sounds. Mainline Part 3.


San Francisco

December 10th, 00:15 PST

Team Year Four

Wally jolted upright in bed with a rattling gasp. His eyes swiveled around the dark bedroom in alarm, and he frantically blinked to clear his vision. Chest heaving rapidly as he tried to calm his racing heart, Wally looked at the squares of moonlight cast through the window onto the carpet beside him. He listened to the ceiling fan whirring above his head, felt the breeze it stirred up against the terror sweat clinging to his skin, and reached up with shaky hands to brush damp strands of orange hair out of his face.

 _It was just a nightmare_.

Even just thinking the words helped him calm down. Wally slumped over a little as he came back to reality and shook off the awful dream. He focused on taking deep breaths and keeping his eyes open just in case images from his terrors still lingered. Wally glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and the glowing red numbers telling him that it was just past midnight. He rested his arms on his knees and sighed; he still had five more hours before he needed to be up. These nightmares hadn't let him get a full night's _uninterrupted_ sleep in months.

He _wanted_ to slip right back into oblivion, but he wasn't quite willing to risk another dream just yet. Reflexively, Wally tracked every shadow in the room to make sure it wasn't a threat. This was getting ridiculous; he couldn't even feel safe in his own head anymore. He let out a ragged, exhausted sigh without thinking about it and then cringed and quickly checked to make sure he hadn't woken his partner.

Dick was still fast asleep beside him, body half curled on its side and burrowed into the sheets. He was facing away, so all Wally could see was his tousled black hair poking out from beneath the covers and one foot hanging off the side of the bed. His shoulder kept moving in the gentle rise and fall of sleep, and Wally released the breath he'd been holding.

These nightmares weren't exactly a secret he was keeping from Dick, but he was trying not to let them mess up _his_ sleep schedule anymore than it already was.

Very carefully, Wally pulled back the sheets and slid his legs out from under them. He slowly rolled onto his feet, trying not to shift the bed too much as he moved, and checked Dick again. There was a small bathroom connected to their bedroom, but Wally padded over to the guest one on the other side of the apartment so that Dick wouldn't hear.

Wally flicked on the light with his elbow and peeled off his soaked t-shirt, tossing it onto the tile floor with a light slap. He turned the knob on the faucet and cupped his hands under the cold stream, splashing the water on his face and neck until most of the sweat had been washed off. Wally ran another handful through his hair and rubbed it in, shivering from the chill against his scalp.

He leant heavily on his forearms, head hanging over the sink while he tried to focus on his breathing. Water dripped off the tip of his nose into the bowl, and it was the only other sound in the apartment aside from the clock ticking out in the hall.

Wally closed his eyes and synched each breath with the seconds slipping by. To anyone watching, it'd look like he was hyperventilating, but it was actually the easiest way to get his heart rate down - especially after a nightmare.

When he felt more awake, Wally took one last, deep breath and looked up at his reflection. For a split second, he didn't see his own face in the mirror hanging above the sink. He saw Uncle Barry staring back at him instead – bloodied, gaunt from exertion, and face frozen in the last moments of agony before his death.

Ice cold shot through his body. He shoved back from the sink with a start, back hitting the door and knocking a towel from the wall rack. Wally caught the towel and looked back at the mirror as his heart tried to leap out of his chest. Uncle Barry was gone, and Wally's own terrified face was front and center again.

Wally watched his expression crumple in grief, and he sank down on the bathroom floor to escape. It didn't feel like this was ever going to stop. He stretched both legs out flat and pressed the towel to his face, breathing in the clean, calming scent of their detergent. The familiar scent helped to ground him in reality, but it did nothing to stop the tears prickling at his eyes.

It had been six months since Uncle Barry was killed, and Wally still felt the loss as plainly as the day it happened. He'd been right there; he'd seen it happen, and he'd been unable to do anything about it. The images were seared into his memory as deeply as scars, and they weren't fading away.

Wally let the towel fall onto his lap, and he tipped his head back against the door, taking a few long, slow breaths to calm down. There wasn't any point getting himself worked up again. His uncle was dead. No amount of crying or feeling empty inside would bring him back, and Wally refused to topple back into the same depression that had claimed him for weeks after the funeral. Too many people depended on him.

He needed to keep moving forward - always forward.

There was the faint sound of metal clinking against glass in the kitchen, and it made Wally crane his neck to glance out the doorway. Dim light spilled into the end of the dark hallway, and tendrils of something rich and spicy drifted through the air. Wally got to his feet and followed the inviting scent in resignation. Should've known better. You can't sneak anything past a bat.

Dick was standing at counter, working by the hood light above the stove. He had his back to Wally and was stirring something into two steaming mugs. Wally caught him stifling a teary yawn against his shoulder before tossing a spoon into the sink and turning towards the peninsula countertop. Wally perched himself on a stool opposite Dick and gladly took the mug that was set in front of him. It was a squat, wide-rimmed souvenir from the first year he interned at STAR Labs, the logo emblazoned on the side was paint-chipped and faded from frequent use. None of their cups or dishes matched anymore, which was fine since they usually ate take-out anyways. The mug in Dick's hands was a purple, black, and yellow monstrosity from the previous year's Superbowl - Gotham City Rogues vs. The Metropolis Meteors.

An unexpected smile broke through when he remembered that particular match. The Team had been divided almost evenly in their allegiances. He, Artemis, Dick, and Zatanna painted their faces yellow and black to show their support for Gotham and had somehow convinced Roy to let them paint his as well. M'gann had forced the others into matching jerseys of yellow and the gaudiest magenta in the history of the color spectrum. They'd fought endlessly at the Metropolis stadium throughout the entire game, and Wally'd never had so much fun.

He could still remember the high that had rushed through him when the Rogues won and Dick grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him while the crowd screamed around them.

Wally bit his lip as the smile faded. No matter what memory he tried to take refuge in, there was always _something_ that made him think of Uncle Barry. Wally'd been going to Central University at the time, and he and Dick had stumbled into his dorm room later that night only to find that Uncle Barry and Hal Jordan had broken in and decorated it in the Meteors' colors as revenge.

 _God,_ he missed his uncle.

Dick reached across the counter and pushed Wally's bangs up off his forehead, blue eyes locked on his and full of love and sympathy, "You okay?"

"Mmhmm," Wally nodded, catching Dick's wrist and brushing a light kiss to his palm. Dick's thumb worked along his skin, wiping away the residual moisture from earlier at a tender pace. Wally didn't need to tell him what the nightmare was about; he already knew. _Everyone_ knew. Wally was the walking wounded in the Team's _and_ the League's eyes. He let Dick's hand slide from his own and picked up the warm mug instead. "Just thinking."

Dick nodded quietly, leaning forward on his elbows and sipping from his mug while he watched Wally like a hawk. He was one of the few who truly understood what Wally was going through and who knew the value of silent support. Too many of the people Wally saw everyday felt the need to fill every minute with generic, awkward words of condolences that didn't really help but that Wally was obligated to accept with good-natured politeness. It was all expectations and good manners, and Wally was so, _so_ tired of it. What helped the most was being able to seek Dick out when he was feeling low and bury his face in the acrobat's chest while strong fingers carded through his hair.

That wasn't to say that they didn't talk about it. Wally told Dick everything. They talked about it until Wally was blue in the face and couldn't get any more words past the knot in his throat. He somehow knew when Wally needed him to just be there.

Wally took his lead and brought his own mug to his lips, sitting upright in surprise at the intense warmth and _calm_ that settled over him. He held the mug a bit away from himself and took an experimental sniff at the spicy liquid within, "Whoa, what is this?"

"Tea," Dick answered with a small smile. "One of Alfred's 'special blends'. I asked him for a whole bunch of this one. It's for speedster's only."

Wally snorted, bravely downing half the mug all at once. It was _really_ good. "Then why are _you_ drinking it?"

"Cause I am just that hardcore," Dick teased with a cocky lilt to the words. He couldn't keep the straight face, though and had to look away before Wally made him crack up. "Actually, I think I'm immune to caffeine at this point…"

"Really?" The tea was making Wally feel sluggish, and relaxed, and high enough that he was getting the giggles. He sloshed the rest of the tea over the top of the mug as he was inspecting it. "You sure he didn't put a narcotic in this?"

"Nope," Dick answered honestly, setting their empty mugs atop the pile of dishes in the sink. "But I'd love to find out what kind of drug is strong enough to affect a speedster."

"Leave it to the bat butler to discover one," Wally was saying suspiciously even as he felt himself slouch bonelessly in his seat.

Dick let out a burst of laughter and tilted Wally's head up to plant a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, "It's just tea, babe."

"A likely story," Wally mumbled through the pleasant buzz in his ears. He popped back up, however, when he heard the sound of Dick's keys jingling in his hand. "Where are you going?"

Dick was balancing on one foot as he tied his gym shoes. Wally hadn't even noticed before, but the raven-haired teen was dressed in workout clothes with his hair pulled back in a dinky ponytail. "Not sure yet. I just figured you needed to work out some tension. Feel like sparring?"

Oh, hell yes.

Wally hopped to his feet, deciding to leave his heartache and the nightmares behind in favor of some good, old-fashioned physical exertion, "You know it. Where do you wanna go?"

"It's up to you."

That left Wally with quite a few options to consider, and it wasn't a good thing. He chewed at his lip as he thought. Well, first choice would normally be the gym at Mt. Justice. Wally was still taking a personal leave, but that didn't mean that his clearance to get in was gone. He knew that the Team would be thrilled to have him back, but he wasn't ready yet - wasn't even close. With all the night owls on the roster, it wasn't too late to find someone up and about, and Wally wasn't fool enough to think they wouldn't come flocking as soon as they knew he was there. So, that was out.

They could use the gym in the Watchtower; the Team had earned codes to access the satellite headquarters after the battle against the Manhunters a few years ago. But, then again…'walking wounded'. _Someone_ up there would see it as their duty to honor Uncle Barry's memory by checking on his nephew.

Pass.

"The Batcave?" Wally asked with mild distaste. He'd long been accepted into Batman's inner circle of trust, so he was welcome to come and go whenever he pleased when it came to Wayne Manor and the lair beneath. Bruce was surprisingly easy to get along with outside of 'business' and Alfred even more so; both were plenty accepting of Wally and Dick's relationship. Even better, they both knew how to treat someone dealing with loss. They made Wally feel normal. The only reason he didn't want to go there right now was because the Batcave was _dark_ , and Wally didn't want to be around that pull towards his nightmares at the moment.

Dick shook his head, "Nah. We'd interrupt Jason's cool down after patrol. Let's go to Ollie's bunker instead. We know the pass codes, and he's more likely to be asleep."

Wally glanced at the clock with a frown. It was nearly one in the morning now. "Bruce has Jaybird up this late? Jeez…"

"Jason doesn't sleep," Dick cracked a smile. "He _waits_. Kid loves training! I have to drag him up into the mansion sometimes because he won't stop to eat or drink."

Wally exhaled in a small laugh, already feeling much better, "Alright, we'll zeta to Star City. Should we give Ollie a _heads_ up or just _show_ up?"

Dick looked directly at him, twirling his keys around a finger and chewing on his lip like he was considering it, "Hmm…"

Five minutes later, they were sneaking into the 'Arrow Cave', and Dick was disabling the zeta tube's security scanner before it could announce their presence. Wally took a few steps into the pitch black bunker and flipped all the breakers in the fuse box bolted to the wall. Row by row, the ceiling lights flickered on and violently lit up the room in blinding white.

Perfect. Light-bleached retinas. This was exactly what Wally needed.

He went over to the field of blue mats lining the floor in the center of the room and flopped onto his back with a satisfying 'whump'. Dick kicked off his shoes and made a beeline for the weapons case while Wally went ahead and began his usual stretches. He wasn't really sure why Dick even bothered browsing Oliver's extensive arsenal that lined the wall like tools in a shed. He always spent a good five or ten minutes looking over every knife and firearm as if he'd actually choose one of them over his own escrima sticks for once. Not likely. Dick had rarely used them when he was younger, but now - at age eighteen, just shy of six feet tall, sleek with precise, lean muscle - he was a _master_.

"What do you want?" Dick called to him from across the room as he surveyed the options. They liked to make different rules each time they sparred with each other to keep it challenging. Sometimes Wally was allowed to fight with his powers, but Dick couldn't have any gadgets. Sometimes both powers _and_ weapons were outlawed, and they both had to fight hand to hand. Sometimes they used a point system, and sometimes they just went at it until one of them dropped.

It sounded like today would involve weapons.

That usually meant Wally would have to forego superspeed. He decided to be cheeky about it and tossed a lascivious wink at his boyfriend's backside, "I want your smokin' hot bod."

"Ooh! _So_ sorry! Not in the rules of engagement," Dick teased with a distinct smile in his voice.

"What _are_ the rules of engagement today?" Wally rolled his eyes dramatically like he couldn't possibly have known that Dick was talking about weapons.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Fine," Wally sighed mournfully. "Surprise me, then."

The only warning he had was the high-pitched whistling of something cutting through the air. Wally turned and caught the escrima stick as it passed inches away from his face. He looked down at it in surprise and was still gaping when Dick sauntered onto the mat before him.

"You tryin' to catch flies?" there was a cocky grin on his boyfriend's lips.

Wally shut his mouth. He turned the stick over in his hands and jumped when Dick tossed him its twin, "Tryin' not to have a heart attack. Are you seriously _sharing_ your favorite weapon? I may faint."

"Ha. Ha. You're just _so_ funny," Dick rolled his eyes, but he was smirking and twirling the sticks between his fingers - this pair plain brown instead of black and much _less_ tricked out than his usual ones. "Alright, _rules_ : We each get escrima sticks. _One_ of them has to stay in your hand the whole fight. If we get disarmed, the other person gets a point. Three, ten-minute rounds. _No_ superspeed. Winner gets to pick dinner, loser has to cook it. Sound good?"

Wally tossed one of his escrima sticks in the air a few times to get the feel of it, "Sounds great, except I'm eating at Aunt Iris' tonight."

"Hmm…" Dick grumbled in mock irritation, like Wally had just thrown a giant wrench into his plans. "How about winner picks the movie tonight, and the loser has to rub the winner's feet while we cuddle on the couch?"

"You mean, if you make it home from your mission in time for a movie?" Wally asked with a laugh, realizing too late how bitter that sounded. He tried to soften the words with a smile, but he'd already seen the guilt flash across Dick's face. "Uh, deal."

Wally was stuck in…a sort of limbo with his heroing. He hadn't been Kid Flash since the funeral - the official one; there had been two - where he'd stood in full uniform amongst his teammates, the entire Justice League, Justice Society, and a dozen heroes from other planets that his uncle had befriended. Media crews televised the whole affair, and the world mourned, and Wally threw his costume in the trash when he got home. He hadn't told anyone yet, but he'd known since that day that he'd never be Kid Flash again.

How could he?

Wally kept up appearances. He practiced, he trained, he led everyone to believe that he intended to rejoin the Team once he was ready. Dick was worried every day that Wally stayed on personal leave that he wouldn't come back. Wally didn't know how to tell him that he was probably right.

It was putting a strain on their relationship. Wally understood all the late night missions and the hours Dick spent at Mt. Justice. He fully supported Dick's position on the Team. But _he_ wasn't part of it anymore, and that had created something heavy and painful between them. Wally wasn't sure what it was, and he didn't know how to fix it, but it was there.

Dick knew it too. He shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the mat under their feet, "Right. Well...do you wanna keep time?"

Wally agreed, and they got started.

This was easy. Sparring was acting and reacting. Wally let himself slide into the familiarity of combat - the give and take - matching moves that he'd seen a thousand times and learning to counter new ones. He got lost in the feeling of burning muscles and the whip-crack echo of escrima sticks striking together.

Three rounds went by in no time at all. Wally lost by a resounding six points to Dick's thirteen - no surprise there. At the end of the fight, they were laughing between gasps for air and Dick was leaning into him for support. Any awkwardness was completely gone in the high of physical exertion, and Wally could forget why he'd even been worried in the first place.

They'd collapsed onto the firm mat and were laughing into each others' shoulders when the doors to the elevator across the room slid apart with a cheerful 'ping'. Wally struggled to prop himself up on his elbows and shoved Dick onto his ass in time to see Roy standing there in the lift.

'He looked _terrible_ ' was Wally's first thought as he watched his big brother all but clutching a thermos to his chest for dear life. Roy's face looked drawn and tired, with deep circles under his eyes and stubble sprinkled along his jaw. He stared back at Wally and Dick with blank, distant eyes and just shrugged before trudging past the boxing ring in the corner and dropping into a chair by one of the workbenches.

It didn't look like Roy had consumed the requisite two cups of coffee yet for anyone to safely talk to him. Wally didn't even know he'd _be_ here. Roy was living in Coast City now with his family. He still had a room in the Queen Mansion - they all did, even Wally and Dick - but Roy didn't use it often. He and Ollie got along great; it was just that Roy was a very independent person and preferred to get by on his own.

Wally absolutely respected that.

"Uh, good morning…?" Dick ventured bravely. Roy gave a grunt of acknowledgement and proceeded to claw at the lid of his thermos like he was hungover. "Can't sleep?"

Roy tipped his whole head back along with the thermos and didn't respond until he'd drained a good half of it. Wally anxiously watched his Adam's apple jump with each swallow and couldn't help thinking that that would be a really stupid way to drown yourself. But Roy just set the thermos down on the workbench and reclined in his chair with a tired sigh, "Don't ever have kids."

Wally and Dick glanced sideways at each other. It was the same sagely advice they'd received from Roy a dozen or so times already - almost always after having endured a sleepless night with a screaming infant. Wally considered himself thoroughly warned. However, it did very little to keep the broad smiles from Wally and Dick's faces at the barest mention of Roy's daughter.

"Oh no!" Dick cooed as he trotted up to the redheaded archer, unable to disguise his glee. He laid his arms across the back of Roy's chair and grinned at him upside down. "Is Speedy having trouble sleeping?"

Wally was right there with him, practically draping himself over the workbench at Roy's elbow, "Roy, you didn't try to sing to her again, did you? You probably gave the little angel nightmares!"

Roy shoved Wally's face away with one hand and a deadly scowl, "Laugh all you want. One of these days, you two are gonna adopt a kid or shanghai a street urchin Batman-style, and you're gonna come running to me for sympathy, and I will have zero fucks left to give."

Dick's expression took on a very pinched look, and he drew back a bit, "Uhh…? I hope you're not referring to me and Jason as _street urchins_."

Wally had to clamp his jaw shut very hard to keep from bursting out laughing. Roy swiveled his chair around to look Dick directly in the eyes, casually hooking one leg over the other, "I don't know who else I'd be talking about."

Dick fell right into Roy's teasing and began to turn very red in the face. He was extremely fond of his new little brother and had zero tolerance for anyone making jokes about him. _"Hey!"_

"Roy's just kidding," Wally jumped in and perched himself on the edge of the workbench, holding Dick back with one extended leg, "He likes Jaybird."

Roy was grinning now, having elicited the response he wanted from Dick, "You can't exactly argue. Bruce _caught_ Jason boosting the tires off the Batmobile."

"It showed gumption," Dick insisted.

"Sure," Roy conceded generously with only a tiny bit of sarcasm. He leaned forward on his knees and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Where _is_ Lian?" Wally kept glancing at the elevator doors that led up to the mansion above them. He was expecting someone to pop in any second carrying her. She was about eight months old, and Wally knew that Roy hated to be too far away from her for very long.

Roy made a vague gesture upwards, "Jade's feeding her. I think they're out on the balcony with Dinah if you wanna go see her."

"Nah, I'll just wait till the next time you make me emergency babysit," Wally hid the internal shiver that passed through him. There wasn't enough money in the world to get him in the same room as Cheshire and the Black Canary. They only _barely_ tolerated each other, and the atmosphere surrounding them was suffocating at best.

One of the world's most powerful metahumans and a lethal woman who used to kill people for a living - Wally didn't want to be there if they ever decided that they disliked each other more than they loved Lian.

Roy wasn't fooled by his redirection. He just snorted and tipped back his thermos again, "Suit yourself. What are you two doing down here anyways? Don't you have an entire cave to spar in? I'm sorry - _two_ caves?"

"They're both a little too crowded nowadays," Dick deflected effortlessly, balancing one escrima stick on the end of the other. "Wally and I figured we'd slum it in Star City. What are _you_ doing here?"

For once, Roy didn't answer with anything sarcastic. His tired expression turned thoughtful, and he looked down at his knees, "Ollie invited Jade and I out for the weekend. It was…surprisingly nice. He's really great with Lian, and Dinah was civil with Jade."

" _Really_?" both Dick and Wally blurted out at the same time.

"Yeah," Roy sounded just as impressed. "I mean, it wasn't perfect, but I can tell they're trying. I'd really like for Lian to see them more often."

Just as Wally was gearing up for a loud, obnoxious 'Awww!', the Waynetech watch on Dick's wrist began emitting a shrill beeping noise. The raven-haired teen glanced down at it and shut off the alarm with a swipe of his finger, "We gotta jet. It's five minutes to three."

Wally's first class wasn't until 6:00am, but Dick's school started at 7 east coast time. Gotham was three hours ahead of San Fran, so Dick needed to leave ridiculously early to make it home on time. He didn't technically live with Wally just yet. Even though Dick's eighteenth birthday was a few weeks ago, Bruce wanted him to wait until he graduated high school before picking up and moving in with Wally. They both kinda figured that the rule was more formality than anything else, but it wasn't a ridiculous request, so Dick divided the week evenly between his family and Wally.

In a few months, he'd be attending college in California, and things would be a lot less messy.

Wally rolled off the workbench and hooked an arm around Roy's neck in a quick hug before dashing to the zeta tube and powering it up, "Time to go break a mental sweat. Tell Ollie he really needs to install that snack machine in here we talked about, yeah?"

Roy snorted, "He said he'd do it if you got your bachelor's degree by 2016."

 _That_ made Wally pause and jerk his head back around at the archer, " _What?!_ There's no way! I'm already scheduled to graduate a year early. Isn't that good enough?"

Roy just shrugged, and Dick joined Wally on the zeta pad. He patted Wally on the shoulder consolingly, "Babe, you're never gonna get that snack machine. Let it go."

The zeta beam whisked them away to Wally's apartment before he could come up with any kind of retort. He made a mental note to re-plead his case with Oliver the next time they took advantage of their open-invitation to the Arrow Cave.

Wally lazed about the apartment while Dick bustled around, collecting his homework and scarfing down a healthy breakfast of leftover spaghetti from last night. They shaved and brushed their teeth together, taking forever to shower because Wally couldn't resist Dick's attempts to join him. So, the acrobat would be late for class…for the fourth time in a row. No biggie… Wally used to _despise_ being late - being last; he always preferred showing up early. But nowadays, it just didn't seem that important anymore. Luckily, Dick shared the sentiment.

This was where he and Dick went their separate ways for the day. With a kiss and a quick 'I love you', Wally was alone in the apartment. He didn't do so well being alone - that was always when life tried to overwhelm him. So, before all the grief and the bad memories could creep in, Wally went back to sleep. He had a little more time before class, and he intended to spend it unconscious.

Wally was in his second year of college. He'd moved to San Francisco and was attending Stanford University. His apartment was close to fifty minutes away from the campus, but that sort of distance was only seconds to a speedster. When his cell phone's alarm went off, he was out the door and breezing through the front entrance with five minutes to spare. Secrecy demanded that he kill the superpowers well before he reached any of the footpaths, so Wally slowed to a normal human sprint as soon as his sneakers hit the concrete. He booked it across campus to the science building and slipped into his classroom just a few minutes late.

Professor Broome had already begun his lecture, so Wally eased the door shut silently and stole an empty seat in the top row. He wasn't worried about being tardy; none of his professors wasted time taking attendance. As long as the school got its money, it didn't care whether the students showed up or not. Besides, today was the last lecture day of the semester. It looked like a good quarter of Wally's classmates hadn't bothered to come anyways.

He offered an apologetic smile to the girl on his left as he unpacked his laptop and shoved his bag under the seat. She acknowledged him with a shy, little grin and nervously tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before turning back to the lecture going on. Wally opened a new document for notes and let his Criminology professor's words lull him into a sort of trance. He didn't do so great with the amphitheater seating that most of the lecture halls were designed for - professors droning away on their stage in front of a movie theater sized screen and fifty to a hundred students. Thankfully, his powers let him daydream all he wanted and pay attention at the same time. He'd prefer a more interactive college experience, but it was nice to just check out mentally for a few hours.

Today would be mainly recap for all his classes anyways. Wally's fingers danced over the keyboard on their own, taking perfect notes that he could revisit later but never actually remembered _taking_. He didn't know how much longer things could go on this way, but for now it felt safer to just be numb. Without his friends and family around as distractions, there was nothing to stand as a buffer between _him_ and all the pain and guilt stacking up around him.

He _wanted_ to be okay, and he sincerely hoped wishing for it hard enough would make it happen. Because he didn't have a plan B.

It was amazing how quickly three hours could go by unnoticed. Wally hadn't even realized that the lecture was wrapping up until his classmates started packing up their bags and laptops. He looked up with a start, closing the lid on his own laptop and seeking out Professor Broome where he was standing at the edge of his stage dismissing the class.

"Your final is on the 17th. That means you have a week to prepare. Study groups are, of course, completely voluntary but seriously recommended. I've divided the class into groups by last name - you'll get an email with the lists by end of day today. You're free to use the groups I created or form your own, but do not make the mistake of thinking you can pass my final without studying at all," Broome was smiling, and some of the people around Wally mimicked his expression. "As much as I'd _love_ to see some of you for another semester, I want to see you taking my _next_ class, not repeating this one. I'll be in my office every day but Wednesday and Friday, but my TAs are here the whole week if you have any questions."

A few students got up and approached the professor with immediate questions, but Wally gathered his stuff and left as fast as he could. He used to linger around after class and chat with the handful he'd made friends with, compare notes and theorize. But not anymore.

He had two more full length classes that day, and disappointingly, they went by in the same kind of haze. Lectures went in one ear and out the other, being dutifully recorded in his notes but not experienced. People tried talking to him, and he gave polite, disconnected answers. He spent his lunch hour outside sitting beside one of the fountains and listening to music, completely forgetting to eat. At least three different friends tried to invite him to some party later in the week, and Wally couldn't even remember their names until well after they'd left.

He wasn't really into parties anymore. Twenty years old, and he was already becoming middle-aged.

As soon as Wally's last class let out at one, he sped back to his apartment and gracelessly dumped his bag on the kitchen table. Two books and a binder slipped out and clattered onto a chair, but Wally left them there and changed into his snow boots and a heavy winter coat. There wasn't an ounce of snow here, but there would be plenty where he was headed. Taking the stairs three at a time, Wally all but flew out of his apartment building, garnering strange looks from his neighbors along the way.

Bruce had installed a small, minimal function zeta tube in a maintenance shed one lot over from Wally's apartment. It was more for the convenience of other heroes trying to reach _him_ than it was for his own personal use. Over the years, Wally had become so fast that zeta beam teleporters really only shaved a handful of minutes off his travel time. He usually preferred to just run if the destination wasn't somewhere out of the country.

Today though, Wally was more than happy to sit back, press a button, and let the alien tech whisk him away to the Midwest.

Stepping out of the zeta tube into Central City was like entering another world. San Francisco was too close to the ocean for snow, but here in Missouri, a thick blanket of it covered everything. The sun was hidden behind thick, flat clouds, throwing the city into a gamut of greys. He could feel the temperature difference immediately, sharp and ice cold pressing in on him from every direction.

Wally made a squeaky noise deep in his throat and fumbled to pull a scarf out of the coat's pocket. He wound it around his face and neck and hunched his shoulders up for warmth, looking down the alley to see if anyone was around. The coast was clear.

He tapped into his powers and sped away from the city center, heading towards Danville. Wally took an alternate route to avoid passing by the Flash Museum. The city had erected an enormous statue of his uncle's likeness in front of the museum in honor of his sacrifice. Wally visited it often, but he didn't want to see it today - not right before he went to the daycare center.

He couldn't let them see him sad.

He had to be happy.

Wally spotted the 'Gem Cities Daycare' sign and slowed to an inconspicuous trot, boots crunching on the salted sidewalk. He plastered a big, fake smile on his face and nodded to the friendly people walking by, veering left up the daycare's walkway and slipping inside where it was blessedly warm.

The girl behind the counter looked up when he entered, and her eyes brightened in recognition, "Hey, Wally."

"Hey, Francine," Wally huffed, lungs aching from the cold. He tugged at his scarf and leaned on the front desk. "You doin alright?"

"Sure am," she gave him a pretty smile, eyes twinkling as she jerked her head towards the front doors where they could see it beginning to snow again. "Living in paradise, here. What about you? You're a little early."

"Last day of classes," Wally told her as explanation. "I got to duck out ahead of time."

" _Lucky_. The twins are gonna be so excited," Francine laughed. She stood from her desk and gestured to the hallway leading to the rest of the building. "They aren't ready yet, so it'll be just a minute. Why don't you thaw out a bit while I go get them."

"Thanks, Francine," Wally called after her, plopping himself down in one of the waiting chairs once she disappeared. He jammed his hands in his pockets and hunkered down, looking around the tiny room. Everything was decorated red and green for the holidays, long strands of sparkly garland hanging over every doorway and finger-painted pictures of reindeer stuck on the walls. They had a small tree set up in one corner and a menorah painted on the front windows, cut-out snowflakes dangling from the ceiling amongst twinkling Christmas lights.

He always liked coming in here during any holiday. The decorations were over the top, but they managed to cheer him up no matter what. Maybe he should think about putting some up in his apartment.

The only warning he had was the sound of running footsteps thundering down the hall and a long chorus of ' _Wallyyyyy_!' before his cousins attacked. He had just enough time to think: 'Well, at least they aren't using superspeed.'

Donnie went for his legs first, wrapping both arms around Wally's calf and kicking ineffectually at his thick snow boots. He was just barely able to peer over Wally's kneecap. Dawn used her brother as a step stool, climbing over him to get onto Wally's lap and burrow her little face into his coat.

Wally shook with laughter, feeling all of the day's heaviness lift away in an instant. He sat upright and curled one arm around Dawn, reaching down to pinch Donnie's nose before the three-year-old could jerk away.

These were Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry's kids: Donald and Dawn Allen. They were fraternal twins with matching heads of thick, strawberry blond hair and identical blue eyes that were exactly the same shade as Uncle Barry's. Technically, they were Wally's cousins, but he thought of them as his little brother and sister. Even Uncle Barry had told the twins that Wally was their big brother.

They'd kind of been a surprise in every sense. His aunt and uncle hadn't really been trying to have kids when Aunt Iris walked into the living room one night with a pregnancy test in one hand and a face as white as a sheet. Wally'd been ecstatic the second he put two and two together, and that had only made it funnier to watch Uncle Barry panicking.

The second surprise had been the discovery that the babies were both speedsters. No one had expected the twins to inherit Uncle Barry's powers - well, no one but Aunt Iris and Batman; they'd guessed correctly from the beginning. It was kind of a big deal. Wally, Barry, Max, and Jay had all gotten their powers from accidents. Donnie and Dawn were the first speedsters to be _born_ with their superspeed. They'd undergone all kinds of tests in their first year of life to make sure they were healthy and safe and that their powers weren't hurting them somehow.

So far, there hadn't been any complications. Their speed was nowhere _near_ alarming just yet, but Wally was positive that they'd get faster as they got older. At the moment, the twins were faster than Olympic-class sprinters with all the clumsiness of three-year-olds still mastering how to walk. They were a mess, and Wally thought his chest might burst with how much he loved them.

They ignited his world with color when everything else was dark.

Aunt Iris had been forced to take a promotion at work, which meant higher pay but longer hours. She hated having to stick the twins in daycare for most of the week, so Wally usually booked it to Central right after classes let out to pick them up early. He tried to help his aunt out as much as he could by babysitting, fixing anything broken with the house, cleaning, anything to make things easier on her.

Wally knew that she missed Uncle Barry as desperately as he did, but _she_ didn't have the luxury of falling apart. Aunt Iris was a lot stronger than that, and Wally tried as hard as he could to channel some of that strength.

He grinned down at the twins and stood up, still holding Dawn while Donnie clung to his leg like a barnacle, "Oh, _thank you_. You know how much I love hugs."

Francine was back behind the counter, watching the three of them with a smile, "Donald and Dawn made presents for everyone today."

"You _did_?" Wally asked them. They just giggled as he tried to hobble over and sign them out with them weighing him down. "Do I get to open mine today?"

" _No!"_ was all Donnie said at the same time that Dawn told him "You have to _wait_!"

" _Wait_?!" Wally pretended to be aghast. He waved a quick goodbye to Francine and got the twins zipped into their winter coats, taking each of their hands and leading them outside. "No, I don't like to wait. I think I'll open mine when we get home."

Donnie went completely dead weight on him in response, holding onto Wally's hand and letting his feet drag along the sidewalk as he whined, "Noooo!"

"But you said I could," Wally argued, trying his hardest to hold back snickers at the looks on the twins' faces.

"No we didn't!" Dawn said bossily. She'd chosen a different tactic than Donnie had and was trying to pull Wally along like a dog on a leash.

"You didn't?" he cocked his head like he wasn't sure.

"No!" they chorused in perfect unison.

He made a skeptical face, "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"How come?"

"Because we said so," Dawn patted his hand consolingly in a flawless imitation of Aunt Iris when she was telling someone they were simple. "Okay?"

"Oh, okay," Wally nodded like he understood now. "I'll wait till Christmas. We can put your presents under the tree. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah!"

" _I_ wanna hide mine in the oven!"

Wally snorted so loud that he got strange looks from the meter cops patrolling the street.

It was usually much harder to get the twins to go from point A to point B without using their powers in public. But thankfully, the banks of snow piled high on the ground were wonderful distractions. Donnie and Dawn darted around throwing sprays of powder at each other, because they weren't quite coordinated enough yet to make actual snowballs.

But _Wally_ was.

He lobbed a few expertly made ones at Dawn and had to make a run for it when Donnie came tearing after him in vengeance. The twins 'chased' him all the way to the bus stop corner that marked the end of the city and the beginning of the suburbs. Wally pretended to slip on some ice, flinging himself dramatically onto a pile of snow and draping one arm across his eyes in a deep swoon.

Dawn landed square on his chest from a running leap and smashed a handful of snow and slush right into his open mouth.

" _Eeeurgh!_ " Wally choked, sitting up and spitting out snow. Dawn tumbled backwards in a sloppy somersault, jumping up and down in glee and waving her mitten-covered hands excitedly. "You little snot…"

Donnie tackled him next, knocking Wally flat on his back and dumping _more_ snow on his hair. Wally cried out like he was dying, waving to the line of people boarding the bus, "Help! Can't you see I'm way outnumbered? They're - agh! Donnie, you monster - help!"

Some of the women turned to each other with hushed giggles, and the group of senior citizens heading for bingo just smiled and waved at him as he was mauled by his cousins.

"That's okay…" Wally sighed, giving up and wincing when Dawn kneed him in the chin as she crawled over him. The bus finished loading and drove off with some of the passengers still pointing and taking pictures. "Just leave me to die here. It's fine…"

It was a little bit easier to get the twins home after they'd tired themselves out with their rousing game of 'beat up big brother'. By the time Wally reached Aunt Iris' house, Donnie was perched on his shoulders, and Dawn was near asleep in his arms. He maneuvered Dawn onto one arm so he could unlock the front door and made sure to duck when he walked through it.

"Alright, we're home," he announced, dropping to a crouch in the middle of the living room to pull Donnie off his back. Both twins swayed on their feet, eyelids fluttering like mad to stay open. Dawn yawned so widely that it set her off balance, and her backpack slid from her shoulders. It hit the floor with a dull thud and the jangle of zippers. "Right. Looks like nap time for you two. You know the drill: shoes off, grab a stuffed animal, and get your butt on the couch."

Donnie plodded along to their room and came back with a stuffed animal for himself as well as his sister's favorite dolphin toy. They both climbed onto the couch after Wally set it up with pillows and blankets and curled up on either end. Wally didn't really know why they bothered putting so much distance between themselves. Whenever he went to check on them while they were sleeping, Donnie and Dawn would always be huddled together, thumbs in their mouths and holding onto each others' jammies in death grips.

It took less than a minute for the twins to be out cold. Wally figured he had about half an hour before they were fully awake and running around again. His cousins had strange, volatile sleeping habits. Some days, they subsisted on less than two hours of sleep, and other days, they were unconscious from noon until midnight. No one could figure out _why_ even though Uncle Barry had spent two years and exhausted all his resources on the problem. Everyone from Max Mercury to Batman had tried and failed to determine the cause. The only thing everyone agreed on was that the twins' health wasn't being affected negatively. Hal even joked about it, saying the kids went into hypersleep.

They were just a little odd, and Wally thought that was great.

At any rate, their sleep schedules were very slowly evening out as they got older. Wally was just grateful that they didn't have the crummy metabolism issues that _he_ had growing up. He could absolutely relate to his cousins and the weird side effects of their powers.

He pulled Donnie's blanket up over his shoulders - he got chilly when he slept - and carefully scooted Dawn away from the edge of the couch so she wouldn't roll onto the floor, because she had a habit of kicking and tossing around. Wally straightened up and smiled down at them fondly. He'd do anything for them.

But they were an unholy terror when he was trying to get things done, and the seconds were ticking away…

Wally dashed out of the living room faster than you could blink. He'd worked up a long list of things he wanted to get done around the house for his aunt, and he was planning on getting it all finished before she got home.

First thing was tackling the front and backyards. Wally shoveled and salted the driveway and sidewalk, knocked the enormous icicles off the roof gutters, and shattered the thick sheet of ice covering the porch. He spent the next ten minutes inside tinkering around with the furnace because it was having trouble keeping up with the freezing cold outside. Wally hadn't spent the night in awhile, but Aunt Iris told him that lately it was taking forever for the heat to kick on in the evenings. He managed a temporary repair before he heard the sound of little feet thundering around upstairs.

Wally took a break to make the twins some hot chocolate and send them outside to play in the snow. He worked through the rest of his list for as long as he could until the puppy dog eyes pressing on the windows got to him. Donnie and Dawn cheered, jumping up and down excitedly when Wally put on his winter coat and darted through the doors after them. There was a tall privacy fence surrounding the backyard so they could all use their superspeed without being seen by the neighbors.

Wally chased them around the yard, which started up a game of tag that churned up the smooth blanket of snow into an icy warzone. Dawn challenged her brother to a snowball throwing contest, and Wally acted as judge while they figured out who could throw the farthest. They both ooe'd and awe'd when Wally showed off for them, winding up his arm with blinding speed and hurling a snowball at the fence so hard that it exploded into a powdery white firework. Then they wanted him to make snow fireworks against the trees, the back porch, the side of the house. Wally's arm was aching by the time their attention spans latched onto something else, and man, was he relieved.

They were in the middle of building an enormous snow caterpillar - because Donnie was afraid of snowmen - when Wally heard a car door slamming shut in the driveway. He turned to Dawn and flashed her a bright smile, "Did you hear that?"

She looked up at him wide blue eyes and shook her head, puzzled.

"I think that's Mommy," Wally reached out and tapped her nose with snow-caked gloves. Dawn immediately sucked in an excited gasp and shot to her feet. She ran for the back door, stumbling over snow banks and shouting for Donnie. Wally sat back on his heels and laughed, watching Donnie try to tear after her, trip and faceplant into the snow, and come up shaking it off like a dog. They both crowded at the door, shoving each other out of the way as they tried to figure out how to open it, but their fingertips could barely brush the handle.

Wally was behind them in a second and pushing the door open, watching his cousins take off like racehorses through the kitchen. They swarmed their mom in the hallway, rosy-cheeked from the cold and chattering long streams of words that only she could make out.

"Hey sugarbugs," Aunt Iris dropped her purse on a chair and knelt down to gather the twins into a tight hug. "Mommy missed you today!"

They didn't treat her as a human climbing frame like they did Wally, instead leading her into the living room to show off the gifts they'd wrapped at daycare. Aunt Iris hooked an arm around Wally's neck as she passed and pressed a chilly kiss to his cheek, "Thanks for picking them up for me, sweetheart."

"It's no problem," Wally hugged her back and helped his aunt out of her coat. "Best part of my day."

"The best part of your day is babysitting these little monsters?" Aunt Iris chuckled. She absently picked up a remote and turned the TV on to the GBS evening news. Wally didn't know if she watched because of her job as a news anchor or if it was a leftover habit. Uncle Barry used to have it on every night just to keep an eye out for trouble. Wally never said anything about it.

"Nowadays?" he asked with a wry shrug. "Pretty much."

"Well, aren't you two lucky," Aunt Iris said to the twins. She crouched down beside the Christmas tree and made a big show of complimenting the presents they wrapped. Dawn climbed onto her lap, and she rested her chin atop her daughter's head. "Your big brother Wally will always be there for you because he has no social life."

The twins broke out in giggles, and Wally's mouth dropped open, "Um?! Rude! I have a social life. I've just been…busy with school and stuff."

"Oh yeah?" she wasn't buying any of his crap. "When was the last time you hung out with Kaldur? Or M'gann and Donna? Or Conner? Or-?"

"Those are bad examples," Wally insisted. "They're all busy too."

"Then why do I have…" Aunt Iris whipped out her cell phone and tapped a few buttons on the screen before holding it out to him so he could see the missed calls screen. "-fifteen messages from them asking how you're doing?"

"Fine. You caught me. I'm avoiding them," Wally rolled his eyes and dropped his shoulders with a sigh. He retreated into the kitchen to heat up dinner, sparing a second to pop his head back through the doorway. "And, Conner's going by 'Kon' now."

"Oh, he finally found a Kryptonian name he liked?" she called after him happily.

"Yup," Wally heard the sound of ornaments jingling and clinking together. The tornado twins were probably crawling around under the tree again.

"That's nice," his aunt followed him into the kitchen and started setting out plates and cups while Wally wrestled a huge casserole dish into the microwave. "How's school going? Today was your last day, right?"

"Yeah. I just have my exams left."

"Do you feel ready for them? I can help you study if you need someone to hold up flashcards," she offered with a smile. Wally knew she was mostly joking, but he appreciated the offer.

"I think I'll be fine, thanks," he heard the microwave beep and checked the temperature of the food.

"Where's Dick?" Aunt Iris tried to ask in a too casual tone. "I thought you said you were going to bring him over."

"He was busy," Wally gave a jerky shrug like he didn't care. "Brother Blood was spotted in Zandia again. The Team was dispatched for recon. It's kind of a big deal I guess…"

"Oh," his aunt was watching him with a concerned look in her eyes. She shook herself and came back with a smile twice as bright. "Well, you can take a plate home for him. But, you tell him that he can only ditch dinner at the Allen's' one more time before I start cooking things he's allergic to."

Wally snorted and nearly fumbled the hot casserole, "Y'know, he compared your cooking to Alfred's once. That's high praise."

Aunt Iris decided that he could take _two_ plates home.

They settled down in the living room to eat dinner - the twins stretched out in a blanket fort on the floor and Wally and Aunt Iris on the couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table. After everything happened with Wally's father, he came to live with his aunt and uncle for two years. Aunt Iris used to be all about sit down family dinners. Her rule was: You eat in the dining room, or you don't eat at all.

Wally hadn't seen his aunt sitting at the dining room table even once since Uncle Barry died. He wasn't there every night, so he couldn't know for sure, but he didn't think she used it at all anymore. There was a fine coating of dust on the surface that never looked disturbed.

She probably didn't like seeing the empty chair and being reminded of who should be in it.

Wally didn't bring it up. He was trying to help his aunt out as much as he could, not cause her any more pain.

"And Cat came bursting into the newsroom fifteen minutes later with one broken heel and her inhaler in hand, dragging her cameraman behind her all the way up to the stage," Aunt Iris had her head tilted back and tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. "She'd stolen the escaped boar story right out from under that bumbling WLEX-TV reporter's nose and had to sprint back to the station because her van blew a tire on the way."

Wally set his empty plate on the coffee table, trying to hold back a wheezing laugh. He'd met his aunt's blonde coworker a couple times before, and he couldn't imagine her moving at a brisk walk, let alone sprinting, "Nice. I hope someone got a video of it."

"I work in a newsroom, Wally. I'm sure there's _six_ videos already circulating through the company email."

"Poor Cat," he snickered, glancing down at the twins when he heard a muffled thump that usually meant that one of them had hit the other with something.

That's when he noticed the news broadcast on the TV. His aunt had switched it to WGBS based out of Metropolis sometime during their meal, and now it was going crazy with red alerts and scrolling updates along the bottom of the screen. Wally picked up the remote and increased the volume, sitting upright and leaning forward to see better.

Famous Metropolis reporter, Lois Lane, was standing in front of a roped off crime scene at what looked like the foot of the Solar Tower. Red and blue flashes from the police cars lit up the night, and the background noise was full of people shouting and the reverberation of helicopters circling overhead. The breaking news headline at the bottom of the screen read 'Gangbuster Found Dead' in big bold letters.

 _"-no official details yet on_ how _Gangbuster was killed. Police are still examining the scene, but it appears that our own Metropolis-native vigilante fell from the roof of the Solar Tower in the heart of New Troy. Gangbuster has selflessly protected Metropolis for over a decade, combating gang violence in the Suicide Slums and rehabilitating teenagers previously affiliated with gangs in the city. He was-"_

Wally's eyes were glued to the screen. The police perimeter did a good job of hiding almost everything from onlookers, but he could see a small glimpse of Gangbuster's crimson and gold costume. His stomach dropped when the cameraman shifted to the left and brought the hero's torso into view. One half of Gangbuster's helmet was absolutely flattened against the ground, and plumes of almost black blood had burst from the body in sharp splatters.

His vision started to swim, and Wally could _feel_ his heart pounding in his ears. It was too much - _too_ similar.

He changed the channel before Lois could get another word out, throwing down the remote and immediately turning towards his aunt. She'd pulled her knees up to her chin and appeared frozen like a statue, eyes unfocused and skin drained of color.

Shit.

" _Dawn_ ," Wally said loudly before he even really knew what he was doing. He just wanted to change the air in the room - change everything. One strawberry blonde head poked out of the blanket tent and looked up at him expectantly. "I think your mom wants to see what you learned at daycare today. Didn't you learn how to do a somersault?"

"Yeah!" She gasped happily, scrambling out of the fort and jumping in front of her mom ready to show off. "Look, Mommy."

Aunt Iris looked over at Dawn with a shell-shocked expression, eyes brimming with tears and blinking dazedly. She sucked in a deep breath and plastered on an unconvincing smile, "I'm watching, sweetie. Go ahead."

Wally turned off the TV entirely, trying desperately to block out the still-fresh memories that were rushing back to him. He got up robotically and cleaned up the remnants of dinner while the twins took over Aunt Iris' attention. They managed to bring her out of her trance a little bit, and Wally calmed himself down by pressing his back against the refrigerator and counting to a million.

Wally couldn't stay any longer. There was someone missing from this house - from his _life_ \- and the absence was gaping. Wally made sure his aunt was alright, kissed the twins goodnight, and headed out. Aunt Iris walked him to the door and asked if he wanted to stay with them over winter break. She talked about how it would be more convenient for him to see his friends and confided how much she and the twins missed him being around. Wally told her he'd think about it. He just really needed to go.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon in San Francisco when Wally stepped out of the zeta tube. His apartment was still empty and dark - his backpack and the spilled books hadn't been moved. Dick wasn't back yet. Wally knew he wouldn't be back yet. He didn't know why he was surprised.

He stumbled into his bedroom on numb legs, grabbing his laptop along the way and collapsing on top of the covers. Wally didn't bother kicking off his shoes or changing his clothes. He just flopped onto his side and checked his email, vaguely remembering Professor Broome's promise to send the study group list by the end of the day.

His inbox was packed with unanswered messages from his friends and pages of spam. He tried not to look at the subjects or addresses, and went straight to his school folder. Professor Broome's email was at the top of the inbox. Wally opened it and scanned over the generic message, scrolling down to the end where the class roster was sectioned off into groups of 8. They were divided alphabetically, and Wally found himself in the very last grouping.

Miranda V.

Kaylee V.

Austin W.

Alex W.

Wallace W.

Julia Y.

Christopher Z.

Hunter Z.

He looked over each name and the cell phone numbers beside them, trying to call up the faces from his memory. About half of them he'd actually spoken to before. Wally shut the laptop lid and pushed it away from him; he'd try calling some of them tomorrow when he had more emotional energy.

And when his head wasn't so screwed up.

He went to sleep fully clothed, alone, and silently begging Dick to make it home before the nightmares showed up.

It was hours before anything woke him up, and it wasn't the sound of a phone ringing or the arrival of any dreams that did it - it was the feeling of the bed dipping and two arms curling around his waist from behind. Wally smiled blearily in relief when a face pressed between his shoulder blades, and he held onto the arms and drifted back to sleep.


End file.
